Beauties and The Beast
by ScarlettScribble
Summary: Andy's got a new job and it tangles her back into the world she'd long believed to have left. Hired by someone she never wished to meet, how will Miranda react when she see's the two of them together? - You know me, it's a 'P - With a little - P' lol. Mirandy as always. Awkward situations, emotions and UST abound...at least that's the plan. Woooooo.
1. Chapter One

**Authors Note:- Hi! I know right, i'm not dead. No one faint in shock. To cut a long story short, I injured myself just over 3 years ago and developed FMS, it's made writing a little difficult. However, my bestie sinister-scribe bought me a wireless keyboard and I am currently back up and running. Woohoo! So many many waffles to her! I have many chapters of new and old stories (shadow of the night being a main one) that I have written, although I need to read and repair them as I hope my writing skills have improved since their original typing. Big thanks to Peet for beta-ing all my stuff and a big bunch of cookies to every one who kept pushing me to continue writing. (I'm about to delve into the swan/queen universe too...so hopefully I'll have something for that Fandom soon.) - Anyway, new fic YAY. Hope you enjoy it!**

***dances* - I've missed this! **

**Flitt x**

**p.s - I'm English btw so here words such as 'apologise' are spelt with an s. I don't care what spell check sayz :P.**

**pps - This chapter suddenly vanished of fan-fiction. I have no idea why. Then it suddenly reappeared again an hour later - *Face Plant*. To save future panic I shall be taking all the M rated scenes to A03 (of all my stories) once my account is set up, just to put my mind at ease. I can't keep up with the changing age of maturity lol. **

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><p><span><strong>Beauties and the Beast<strong>

Life hadn't been easy after Runway. Nate went to Boston and she was left with a rent rate her current journalist's salary could never afford. She tried to find other flats, but they were priced too high, too far from work, or in an area so shady she would barely be able to sleep soundly.

So she'd taken on another job.

It was briefly suggested to her in jest from a friend at work. Jokingly saying the money these women raked in was beyond believable. Commissioned to write an article on it, Andy had discovered it wasn't as seedy as it seemed. She had made many contacts and due to her positive attitude and honest approached had managed to gain a degree of respect from everyone in the industry. She'd approached her article with a level-headed view point; determined to avoid the derogatory and biased attitude driven home by most of the daily rags that littered the streets. Andy hadn't written this article to entertain. It had been riveting for sure but she'd wanted to get the honest angle across to her readers. Her aim hadn't been to tart up the industry and make it sordid in sex but to gain an accurate insight and shine a light on a position of employment so incorrectly interpreted in the past.

Andy was an escort. A glamour girl that stayed on the heel of the man who hired her, an aide to provide something pretty and drop intelligent comments in the conversation when required.

And that was all.

No sex. Of course many girls went beyond the definition of an escort but that was their personal choice. They liked the men they met and were willing to gain pleasure from the position of work, and why not? Andy's agency, while not advising against it, left the choice totally open. The contract though, was adamantly clear. They would go out with the man, wear what was selected, speak when spoken too and gather the remainder of the payment once the evening came to a close. A deposit was put in place to reserve the girl they selected and the rest of the cash came at the end of the assignment, usually without issue.

Andy had yet to meet a man who refused to pay. Sure some had expected to get a little more for their money, but they had read and signed the contract and agreed to the terms. That meant extra-curricular activities were at her discretion. Before booking it was made clear to the client that she wouldn't be providing any. Still a few men had attempted to cross the line. Some found the opportunity to seduce exciting but their charm offensive failed each and every time. The others hired her for her intelligence and beauty. Andy didn't see it herself, but she'd been complimented many times on her eyes and her looks as a whole. Sure she'd never live up to Runway women, but she had confidence in her appearance and her self-esteem had healed since her abandonment of Miranda many months ago.

The memory still stung. Andy was ashamed of her behavior, especially after her excellent reference. She shouldn't have left like that. It was an act that couldn't be labelled as anything but purely unprofessional. She couldn't help but berate herself for abandoning Miranda the day after her marriage collapsed, but she couldn't, and part of her wouldn't, apologise. She'd considered writing a letter but had quickly dismissed the thought. She would never see Miranda again. If Andy ever got to a level that meant they revolved in the same circles, it would be many years down the line. By then Miranda probably wouldn't even remember her. She was an inconsequential assistant who was nothing more than a boring blip on the editor's radar. Andy sighed turning back to her desk.

She had a guy tonight.

It was Friday evening and all she had left to do was finish the last line of her article and fire it off to her boss before she could go.

No one knew about her extra curricular activity and she wanted it that way. It was easier to avoid the scathing opinions she was sure to be faced with. Although, keeping a secret did make her relationship with her work colleagues a little distant. She lied to them. Many stories had been invented to avoid evenings out when she had work. It was hard. Keeping up with the lies was even harder but she had succeeded so far,_ just_. She'd almost slipped up on a single occasion but had quickly saved herself by dragging everyone's attention to another matter and relaxing as her slip up sailed by undetected. They all got together in the mornings for a quick chat before they dispersed and did their daily tasks. It was a friendly atmosphere. Andy had been met by a little hostility when she'd first arrived. She'd been the new competition on articles and positions but after everyone had gotten to know her she'd been assimilated into most of the group pretty quickly. The rest spoke to her on a respectable level and that was all Andy asked for.

Finishing off her article in a flurry she scanned it before mailing it to her boss, quickly closing her computer down.

'You out tonight?' Kate leaned over. She was sat opposite Andy everyday and was far more forthcoming with conversation than Emily had ever been.

'Yep I am, you?

'Nah, night in with wine and chocolates.'

'Sounds too good to be true.'

'Probably will be. I'm sure my mother will call or something and keep me on the phone for a couple of hours.'

'Switch it off.'

'I can't, I worry. It's okay though, I don't mind it, much. It's nice to talk, and I can still eat chocolates while chatting,' she laughed, 'so who you out with tonight then?'

'Oh just an old friend, haven't seen him in a while so I don't know what it will be like. I'm just helping him out. Needs a friend to attend a work do with him and I offered.' It was close enough to the truth that Andy could easily create a plausible story about her evening when asked how it went next week.

'Oh that sounds fun.'

'Yeah shouldn't be too bad. I'd prefer the chocolates though if I'm honest.'

'I'll save you some for Monday.'

'Sounds good I'll see you then.' She slung her bag over her shoulder.

'Yeah see yah hun, have fun.'

'You too, night Kate.'

'Night.' She waved as Andy walked away, her attention returning to her computer screen.

Andy had, had two hours to get ready. An hour and a half later she was dressed in the dress that had been sent over to her two days ago. It was black, which Andy had no objection to. The low cut front however was something a little too risqué for her to be truly comfortable in but, as always, the customer came first.

Now she was sitting with a half empty glass of wine, mulling the evening over. It was a ball of some sort that much she knew. What it was in celebration of she didn't know. She'd have to wait until she arrived. Casting a glance at the clock, she downed her Dutch courage and shifted her dress for the hundredth time to check the securing tape was in place. It was even lower cut at the back and barely tickled the top of her ass. A small diamond on a platinum chain dangled down between her shoulder blades attached to two thin straps over her shoulders. Gathered in at the waist it then flowed to the floor and clung to her legs as she walked. It outlined every curve, coating her body in silk.

Grabbing her clutch she swung a shawl over her shoulders hiding her appearance to the many members of the New York streets. She would take it off minutes before her arrival. There was no need to give_ everyone_ an eyeful. The dress already gave away a lot about the man who'd hired her; he liked to look. She just hoped he'd keep his hands to himself. She didn't wish to spend the evening fending off his advances, but she had a feeling she might be met with another one aiming to prove their own irresistibility. She sighed. The seduction attempts were the low light of this job, but she needed the money. For the first time in forever her finances were in the green and her rent was fully paid without complaint. She intended to keep it that way.

Scooping her keys up, she ran the check list in her head to ensure she had everything before darting out the door. Checking the locks she flew out onto the busy streets. She'd have to take a taxi. Swinging her arm out wide, she smiled as a yellow cab pulled up to the curb. Drawing the address out of her bag she read it to the driver as she slipped in the back.

Nerves crawled in her belly as the car pulled away from the curb. She always hated the moment before they met. Andy wasn't a natural escort. She was constantly checking herself and mentally going over everything expected of her to ensure she never made a mistake. She didn't bow down to men very well, but when they were paying for her she had to fulfill their every request. She had no choice but to keep to the rules of her contract. With every man she never knew what to expect, but she entered this one with a sense of foreboding. She could only hope she was mistaken.

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><p>Her night couldn't have turned out any worse.<p>

On her arrival she'd felt a sense of panic as she took bright lights and fashion icons flocking to the cameras. She'd recognised the celebration, the name related to her Runway days. This was Miranda's world. She'd reluctantly stepped into the throng, casting a fleeting wish that this event wasn't a current highlight in the editor's social calendar. Blinded by the sporadic flashes dancing around her eyes she'd rushed ahead desperate to extricate her-self from the lime light. In her haste she'd barely registered the people passing, pressing on-wards. Almost at her meeting point she'd eagerly darted up the final few steps, only to come face to face with Stephen.

Her momentary prayers had been shattered within seconds. She'd hoped he'd only approached her after recognising her from her Runway days, but no such luck.

He'd hired her.

He was the man that held a vast amount of money over her head this evening. This was the man that would be paying part of her bills this month, and the man that was still married to Miranda.

Andy knew full well the divorce wasn't finalised. The amount of crap that was slung about in the press almost every other day was violent and distasteful and mostly from his side. He'd launched a full blown attack on Andy's ex-boss and no matter how horrible the woman was to her assistants Andy couldn't and wouldn't believe half the accusations this man had levied. In all honesty Andy felt sorry for her.

Though right now, all she felt was sick. His eyes had roved over her immediately and the uncomfortable feeling about her outfit had only intensified. The thought that he'd selected the gown with her in mind made her stomach roll. She steeled herself under his gaze, burying her emotions beneath her makeup. He was looking at her with far more interest than was acceptable from a married man, albeit a separated one. She felt dirty.

Andy blinked as a camera fired in her face. They all knew who he was and after this evening they'd all have ascertained who she was too. She was doomed. Miranda would hunt her down and beat her to death with the book; bleeding on it be damned. Then again she might use her bare hands, or the heel of her Loboutins. The options were endless.

Slamming her hand up she blocked her face from view, eyeing up the sleazy little man now positioned far to close for comfort.

'Good evening Andy, or should I say _Andrea_.'

So he knew. She fought a shudder, repulsion rippling over her in waves. Ever the professional she forced herself to form an answer, calming her tone so it didn't sound like an accusation, 'You know who I am then?'

'It took me a moment I must admit. I scanned the book twice until I finally figured out where I remembered your face from. After that I had to have you. I must say, your photo doesn't do you justice.' His roving eyes drove his comment home, a smirk curling into his lips.

Andy's left hand came up to clutch her arm trying to rub away the chill now clinging to her skin.

'Cold?'

She wasn't, but she wished to move as far away from the press as possible so she nodded, 'I'd like to head inside, if that's okay?'

'Of course,' Placing his hand on her back he turned her in the direction of the camera forcing her to face the constant onslaught of flashing lights as he guided her slowly up the steps, smiling directly at every member of the press. He was clearly attempting to get as many images of them together as possible. She felt dizzy. She couldn't kill the suspicion she was being bought as another pawn within their marriage. Another painful blow to Miranda's ego as the battle continued between them. It must have made his day when he'd seen her image. His plan to have an attractive, seemingly 'willing' woman by his side seduced by his sleaze with ease had only escalated onto a higher scale. What better than an ex assistant and to top it off she was the one that walked away.

Andy had escaped Miranda's wrath before, but she wouldn't after this. She'd be blackballed for sure. Miranda would no doubt engulf her in the fires of hell, and the opportunity to explain would never arise.

The only saving grace was Andy wouldn't have to acknowledge her face to face. She would deal with the backlash from the photos tomorrow. Tonight she only had to survive the humiliation and act as though she was interested in this lowly little man. She could do this. Andy had survived far worse. After Runway she could do anything, right?

Stepping away she increased the distance between his clammy hand and her skin, hoping to avoid his touch as often as possible. Speeding up her step she ducked her head down low and inched her way inside. He was hot on her heels. Feeling his arm link into hers she fought back the involuntary need to flinch from his touch and forced her head up high. Adjusting her dress and pasting a smile on her face, she put her best Jimmy Choo forward. Unaware the nightmare had only just begun.

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><p>Andy had lost track of her champagne intake. It was an unwritten rule not to get drunk on the job but in this instance Andy didn't care. Stephen was as lecherous as Andy had imagined and he didn't keep his hands off her for more than a few minutes. How did Miranda stomach this for three years? He was like an octopus. Did Miranda let him touch her like this? She blinked, stomach flip flopping uncomfortably at the thought. The image in her head descended into a forbidden arena and an unwelcome scene began to play out. It upset her more than she'd ever expected. Licking her lips to dispel their dryness, she dismissed the invasion of Miranda's private life from her mind. She had no wish to delve into such territory involving her ex boss and her husband.<p>

Andy's eyes roamed over the crowd currently milling around them. Stephen's free arm folded over a vacuous blond hovering by his side seemingly attentive to his every word. She was welcome to him. Andy wondered if he'd always been like this. Through three years of marriage had Miranda willingly subjected herself to him knowing his hands spent half their life roving over the bodies of other women? The thought made her tummy twist as anger began to boil in her stomach. While she hadn't been integrated in their divorce Andy hadn't given the issues between them much thought but now she'd been inadvertently dragged into it and Andy could not understand what Miranda had seen in this man.

Miranda surpassed him in every possible way. When Miranda walked into a room every eye was on her. Half of them wished they were her, the others wished they were her other half. Yet Stephen had cast her aside like she wasn't worth the effort. Andy wasn't deluded. She knew Miranda wasn't an easy woman to like or love but to treat her with such outright disrespect made Andy unintentionally hostile towards him.

Clenching her fist slightly, she commanded herself to calm. She allowed herself a moment to float on the lingering champagne-haze hovering at the edge of her senses. She needed some space. Summoning up a neutral expression Andy forced her-self to touch his arm in a relatively romantic gesture as she extricated herself from his side under the premise of going to get a drink.

It didn't take long. She'd downed one upon discovery of a waiter with a laden tray, and snatched another for the road. With her champagne in hand she orbited around the edge of the floor. The constant chatter and fake laughter echoed as constant cacophony from all corners of the room. Friends and enemies alike socialised over half full glasses and empty conversation as they all revolved around the rich inner circle of unique clientele. A clientele Andy had only ever entered on the hems of other high fliers.

She didn't belong here. Still, deep down, it felt comforting to return. To remember her time within Runway and everything she'd walked away from. This was what she'd abandoned. There was something about it Andy couldn't deny she missed. Maybe it was Miranda. Andy gave a silent laugh, her head shaking to the side. It was easy to deny it. As the minutes ticked by she sunk further into shadows, slowly sipping her champagne. Left alone with her memories of those few months, a sense of emptiness seemed to echo under her skin. She'd lost something, left something. A piece of her would always feel content within this world, and it remained with Runway, _with Miranda_.

Andy cast a glance at the clock. Fifteen minutes had passed. She'd avoided him for as long as she felt was feasible. With a sigh she ducked down and dove into the glittering crowd, reluctantly returning to his side. She couldn't deny the fact he owned her for the evening. The thought made her skin crawl. Still she had bills to pay so by his side was where she'd remain for the rest of the evening, much to her despair. She was now well on her way to drunk. With one downed drink and the other in her hand over half empty it was no surprise she barely sensed a pair of cool blue eyes boring into her back.


	2. Chapter Two

**_Author Note:- Thank you everyone for such wonderful reviews. It's so lovely to see people complimenting my work after being gone so long. I was aiming to have this up before 7 days but my illness flared up. Been on my co-codamol for the last week and today I've been stuck on Dihydrocodeine - So i've been very drowsy and I have the letters QWERTY permanently imprinted where I've passed out on my keyboard lol. Still I finally got this chapter fixed. I have written up to chapter 8 so far but the time is being taken by me ensuring its written to the best of my current ability because they were written so long ago. _**

**_Hopefully this was worth the wait. Fingers crossed you all enjoy it :). I'll try to get the next one up in about 7 days again._**

**_Flitt x_**

**_P.s Thanks to Peet for beta-ing my work for me :)._**

**_P.p.s - Disclaimer. No money. Not just from this. I literally have no money *weeps*._**

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><p><strong><span>Chapter Two<span>**

Her evening crept by at a painfully slow pace. Every glance gifted to the clock barely erasing a single second from her shift.

It was agonising.

She'd tried to ease the burden of the evening with alcohol. The constant flow of liquor had been an irresistible temptation. Yet, despite the few glasses now thrumming through her veins she was unable to numb her body to the amorous attentions of her 'date'. Stephen's hands were determinedly roving into unwelcome areas. No matter how often she'd brushed his attentions aside, his flirting never seemed to cease. Her skin crawled every time he touched her and with the alcohol aided waves within her stomach, she wanted to wretch.

Stephen's happiness on the other hand seemed to escalate as the evening progressed. His attention toward her could almost be deemed as doting. A constant clamour of caring attention willingly disposed in her direction for all eyes to see. When it came to faking it Andy could fault him. His performance was spectacular. To the eyes of the crowd they were an item.

Especially one pair of eyes in particular.

A shiver danced down Andy's spine as the atmosphere in the room seemed to descend into silence. The air hung heavy as many eyes roved over her shoulder, fascinated by something, or someone, standing barely a few inches away.

'Good Evening.'

A greeting coated in ice whispered over her shoulder. It was a familiar voice. With a fluttering timber that would forever float at the edge of her mind.

Andy would have done anything to die. She would have welcomed an earthquake and eagerly cast herself into crack beneath her feet. A few minutes ago she would have sworn her night couldn't have gotten any worse than it already was. That theory had just been blown out of the water. Like an approaching tidal wave she had no hope of survival. She didn't want to turn. Didn't want to face the figure she knew to be behind her. Once acknowledged the nightmare would truly begin. She just wanted to deny their presence a little bit longer.

She started to pray. A desperate mantra in her mind hoping the woman was addressing someone else; that the voice would vanish into the distance. She clung to any shred of hope. Anything she could cast her mind to. It was a desperate attempt to delay the confrontation that was sure to come when she turned to gaze into the face of her living nightmare.

Her wishes were never granted.

With a grinning Stephen super-glued to her side, his hands forced her to swivel. His actions finally bringing her face to face with Miranda Priestly.

His voice oozed sycophantic glee, 'Good Evening Miranda, this is a _nice_ surprise.'

His comment was ignored as bright blue eyes widened with surprise. Andy had barely remembered ever seeing such an expression on her ex boss's face in her history of working at Runway. _Only once and Stephen had stood by her side then. Sending a scathing look before walking away from his wife after she'd waded into the centre of their argument_. Why was she always caught between these two?

Andy was unable to look away. Her eyes stung, too fearful to even blink under the intensity of Miranda's gaze. She watched as the older woman's guard crumbled for a split second before the muscles in her face tensed. Any evidence of her emotions was immediately suffocated beneath a mask of control. It was well practiced. Once the walls were up, nothing seeped through her defence. Andy had always been in awe. This was the editor, the icon. This woman was a robot functioning in the wild world of fashion.

'A 'nice' surprise is debatable in this instance, Stephen,' Miranda flicked her head, her fringe fluttering from the motion. Turning her attention away from Andy she continued to speak her focus solely on her husband. Determinedly trying to avoid eavesdropping Andy kept her eyes and ears firmly away from the argument developing between the sparring spouses. _Shame their separation didn't extend to events. _

Tuning everything out, she turned her attention to Miranda's outfit. The Editor was dressed in a dark navy gown. Flashes of silver peaked out from the underside, escaping into the light through every pleat and fold. It clung to every curve, cascading over her legs like a waterfall. There was slit at the side. The detail would have been almost invisible if it hadn't been for her current stance. Parted barely an inch, it gifted the crowd with a tantalising glimpse of silken skin. As always with Miranda her outfit had a teasing element to add an edge to the elegance. Andy's gaze inched higher, finally drawn in by the cresting edge of the dress where waves of colour washed into silken skin.

Her breathing sounded shallow as her eyes scanned over the expanse of skin bravely displayed above the heart shape bustle. The 'V' dipped dramatically down. Not enough to teeter on the edge of decent but it delivered an alluring impact. She should stop looking. The voice in her head was telling her to tear her eyes away and look anywhere else. There were hundreds of men and women milling around. All of them were a viable distraction. So why was her attention so focused on a single one? Miranda's voice drifted in and out of Andy's thoughts.

'Trust I should find you here and as always with a _random_ woman,'

'Not so random Miranda. I believe you've met Andrea.' His hand came to rest on Andy's lower back, 'In fact I think it's you I have to thank for introducing us.'

Andy tensed, eyes snapping up. Miranda's head tilted slightly to the side, eyes almost seeming to fight the desire to fall on her ex-assistant again. She cast the briefest of glances before darting her attention back to Stephen. The idiot still had a sickening grin plastered on his face. Andy gritted her teeth. She hated being used in any situation but to wound another woman intentionally was abhorrent to her. She knew Miranda was vulnerable even if the woman would never admit it. Paris had been evidence enough. Now here her husband was attempting to deliver a new wound, right in the middle of Miranda's world. Stephen's plan was darkly outlined in all its evil intent and it only further cemented her hatred of him. She knew now. He'd known Miranda would be here and he'd wanted to make her hurt. Any nameless woman would have done it but an ex-assistant was a severely low blow one which would drive the tabloids wild. _Stephen chooses a lowly assistant over the queen of Fashion. _If only she could leave. She'd give anything to announce the situation she was in. How good would it feel to announce to the crowd that he'd had to pay to have her by his side and that she found him totally repulsive? How could Miranda have ever loved this man? Had she ever loved him, _could she even love_? Andy scanned her. Again she was met with the subtle flick of her head, Miranda's signature sign of nonchalance.

'Yes she was an assistant of mine, one among many. I'm surprised you remember.'

'I always remember a pretty face.'

Andy saw Miranda's body tighten, her jaw clenching ever so slightly. She felt ill, a sick feeling bubbling up violently in the face of his comment. She hated the thought that Stephen found her remotely attractive. That he could even consider it after being married to the stunning figure in front of her for three years was almost unbelievable. Not to mention totally disgusting. This man was old enough to be her Father. Then again Miranda was old enough to be her mother. Would she find it as repulsive if Miranda dated anyone her age? Andy frowned barely assessing this thought before she panicked. It was quickly filed away. The unnerving emotion exiled with all the flurries of feeling that had ever inconveniently clamoured through her heart. A subconscious pile of denial and it was all related to Miranda. She couldn't focus on anything. Not her ex-boss or her husband. She wanted to run but there was nowhere to hide. She was surrounded by a siege of attention and hundreds of ears eagerly pricked towards every word of the conversation.

'Of course you do,' she smiled a sickly grin at him, her eyes like the colour of ice, 'but most of them never remember you and I keep trying to forget.'

'I've always been unforgettable.'

'In an appalling capacity, indeed you have.'

Andy heard his growl. The tension was crackling around them. She contained her smile at Miranda's low blow, surprised that the woman would be so willingly underhanded while Andy was in their inner circle. Maybe it was unintentional. Maybe Miranda hadn't been aware of the undertones. Then again maybe she'd been determined to hit him where it hurt and humiliate him in front of Andy. Half of her was fascinated. The other half wished she wasn't here, that she wasn't hearing this. She didn't want to think of them in any capacity, especially not sexually.

The word slowly turned over in her head, _sex_. It was something she'd never imagined the editor engaging in. Now, that seemed silly. Of course Miranda did. She'd had twins and three husbands. Sex was most certainly somewhere in there. Despite the resistance Andy couldn't help but wonder what she'd be like. At this thought a stream of images flooded before her eyes. The sight almost forced an involuntary gasp out of Andy. All she could see was silken skin and parted pink lips. Miranda's hands pinned either side of her silver hair as her skin shimmered in the low light, chest heaving as her orgasmic cry died out. _Shit._ Closing her eyes Andy tore into her imaginings desperate to regain control. She'd never imagined Miranda like that before. She couldn't even comprehend the woman losing control. Yet in her head she just had, beautifully so. Lust tingled beneath her skin, her mind whirling in surprise. No, no, no, this couldn't be happening. She was having erotic thoughts about her ex-boss. The woman who was currently stood inches away arguing with her husband. The man Andy was tied to for the night.

This was wrong on a number of levels.

Andy kept her eyes downcast as the conversation continued, not even looking up as Miranda addressed her directly.

'Good luck Andrea.' Miranda stepped forward, her shoulder brushing into her as her whispered breath bruised over her skin 'You're going to need it.' It was a threat. The words were soft yet their impact was unpleasantly hard. The deliverance was a flawless imitation of a concrete glove wrapped in velvet.

Miranda was going to get her revenge.

She shivered, knowing the fight was far from finished. The final blow was coming. The editor would be sure to deliver a knock-out punch. Like a follow through with the consequences of her actions, Andy wouldn't witness it before it hit but without a doubt, it was going to hurt.

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><p>Andy's eyes hardly left the clock from then on. Her gaze constantly cast over the innocent hands only to witness each minute tick by at a painfully slow pace. She'd seen silver hair weaving amongst the crowd. Her nerves tortured her with every subtle silver flash. In the brief moments she had seen the older woman Andy could have sworn her eyes had zeroed in on her but when Andy had looked over Miranda was consumed in conversation. Her undivided attention focused upon another nameless rich figure amongst the masses.<p>

Andy was waiting for the killer blow. The older woman had made her intentions clear. She'd attempted to talk to herself. Convince her mind her suspicions were simple paranoia. She failed. Andy couldn't fall for the lie. She knew it wasn't over. Miranda never left her unequal adversaries standing and Andy was an easy target. Miranda hated her. If she hadn't before she definitely did now. There was no doubt. The older woman would assume, like everyone else, that Andy was fucking her husband.

She jumped as Stephen's hand smoothed around her waist. Her head whipped round, surprised to find Miranda's attention this time directed intently at her. Her expression was unreadable. Blue eyes slowly flicked to her husband's roving hand before darting back up to meet Andy's eyes, eyebrow inching upward in a mixture of challenge and intrigue. She clearly found it hard to comprehend the idea of Andy dating her husband. Surely she had to grant her a greater intelligence, didn't she?

Andy tore her eyes away. She couldn't cope with this. The world felt like it was clamouring in on her, blue orbs swimming before her eyes. The vision was like a constant stream of images split between realms of reality and dreams. Her fantasy was determined to fuse with the figure staring directly at her. She had to get away, desperate for some fresh air.

'Um, excuse me, I need to...I'm going to the bathroom.'

She extricated herself from his grip. Dropping his arm from her hand like a python she squirmed away from his attention before losing herself in the swarm of people around her. She gasped for breath as she burst from the crowd walking the short distance to the ladies.

She sighed in relief to find it empty.

How long she remained in there she didn't know. Wide brown eyes were staring back at her from a face that was beginning to evolve before her eyes. Changing into a woman she didn't recognise. New desires were hiding behind her eyes. The facts she'd forced away finally flooding to the service. She'd never, ever, thought of a woman that way, at least not with that level of interest. Sure she'd been intrigued, _slightly_ but she'd never thought to pursue it with any intent. At least she didn't think so. Everything didn't seem so certain anymore. Her mind was analyzing every action, thought and feeling towards a female. Anything abnormal was dissected with ravage interest determined to hunt out the honest root of the issue. She couldn't get a grip on it all. The internal flames of doubt licked along her memories blurring everything she'd ever understood. The stab of craving her fantasy formed had inflicted a fresh wound on her heart. It was an emotion that was easy to analyse. The sting of desire now throbbed ensuring it was impossible to ignore. Her fingers flexed, gripping the sink for support. Why did this matter? Why did she care? She couldn't pursue this even if she unravelled it all and found a shred of lingering lust towards the icy editor. Maybe it was the evening getting to her head. Tomorrow she'd wake up alone in her home and think over tonight with a large level of relief that it was over. Her memory might barely grant a fleeting thought to her unfounded fantasies.

Running the tap, she cupped her hands together. The cool liquid pooled in her palms before they lifted and brought it to her lips to sip. It was cool and welcome, helping her to sober up. She needed to snap out of it, clear the haze in her head and get a hold of herself.

Drying her hands she adjusted her dress for the fiftieth time that evening and slipped out the door. The hall was empty. A quick scan gathered no evidence of another party in the immediate vicinity. It was only as slender fingers wrapped round her wrist and tugged her into an alcove that she realised she wasn't alone. She gasped as the wall slammed up against her back. Her mind whirled as Miranda's face swam into focus inches from her own and she found herself staring into an angry pair of blue eyes.

'What an earth do you think you're doing?'

Her head was ringing. Blinking, Andy chose to go on the offensive. The battle was about to begin. 'I could ask you the same thing.'

'Don't be smart with me, answer the question. Why are you with my Husband?'

'I,' she paused stalling, not knowing how to answer. 'You've separated haven't you?' Come on Andy think of an answer, anything that doesn't involve sex or money. She desperately scrabbled to get a hold of herself and calm her hammering heart. Miranda had never been in such close proximity and the scent of her perfume was stinging into her senses as she invaded her space.

'If you think our separation makes it okay then your intelligence is severely lacking. The press will pounce on you like a pack of hounds if they think you're bedding my ex. Surely you're not so stupid Andrea, to partake in his little games.'

'I don't think that. I'm not...I'm,' Andy floundered, money, bills, silence, whirling around in her head. If she spoke the truth her payment would bleed between her fingertips. She shifted slightly trying to ease out of Miranda's grasp only to feel her fingers tighten further. They wrapped around the tops of her arms pinning them by her side. She felt anger bubble up, her eyes narrowing at her ex-tormentor. She was almost disappointed that Miranda would think her silly enough to sleep with her husband. Then again, Miranda had seen something in him. What? Andy would never know but Andy knew Miranda would see every action as an aim for revenge.

'I find it hard to believe you've filled my place in his bed before it's barely cold.'

'I haven't been anywhere near his bed.'

'Semantics, so he hasn't had 'you' in his bed, _yet_. That just leaves everywhere else. How long have you been together? The answer better be after Runway or god, help me, there will be no place on earth for you to hide.'

'He hasn't had me anywhere. Tonight was the first night I've ever gone out with him,'

'So tonight would be the night then? Would he have had you here in the hotel or would you have headed back to his house?'

'I wouldn't have gone anywhere with him, not here, not his house, nowhere. I'm not stupid.'

'And yet you're here. Why you? Of all the women who've worked for me, why would he pick _you_?'

'How am I supposed to know?' Andy frowned, noting the emphasis was all wrong. Her frustration simmered under the surface as she hissed in a hushed voice, 'Which bit is it you're most bothered by Miranda? The fact he's sleeping with someone other than you, or the fact you _THINK _it's me?'

Miranda's eyes flicked to Andy's mouth for a moment, before boring back into hers. The cold immediately settled in as her eyes narrowed. Andy felt her tense, the only evidence lying in the pressure of her hands. They would leave finger prints without a doubt. She'd be temporarily branded, tattooed by Miranda's touch.

Andy fought back a shiver as Miranda's voice rumbled out in a low tone, light but deadly. 'Don't make me ask you again Andrea, why are you with my husband?' Andy eyed her warily, infuriated. Miranda had ignored her own question but demanded she answer hers. She remained silent and defiant. 'Answer me!' Miranda snapped, her voice escalating slightly from the constant calm alto. Her voice wobbled as she shook Andy, drawing her towards her barely an inch only to bang her against the wall again. It was too much. She was torn between two poisonous players with her heart swelling up with venomous intent. It was like she'd been bitten by the lust bug as the heat from Miranda's skin flared into her in a constant wave of awareness of the other woman. Andy had a headache. Her body was clawing inside out torn between closing the distance and running away. She had to escape. Her head swam as her heart choked, fighting for her attention. Andy gasped for breath. Her body desperately called for calm as her eyes darted down, trailing over every contour of the editor's body. Her eyes fell on her chest, her bosom heaving from the angry onslaught of emotion triggered by Andy's silence.

She had to get away.

Head devoid of sensible thought she shoved Miranda aside. Pulling her arms from her grasp, she darted round the corner only to collide with something solid. A familiar scent invaded her head. It was revoltingly sweet, tainted with old cigar smoke. The smell made her heave. Arms wrapped round her even as she struggled, his voice coming close to her ear. 'Miss me?'

She tried to pull from his grasp. The wriggling was futile unable to break his grip. She heard heels behind her and knew Miranda was close to approaching. Still Andy was unable to escape. The silence cracked in the air as the staccato of the editors stilettos died. In unison she felt Stephen's fingers tangle in her hair forcing his lips onto hers.

She wretched as the bile finally bubbled into her throat. She was sickened by his touch, his taste. She hit his chest, her nails clawing for his face trying to break away. Miranda would be watching no doubt waiting to finally finish her off in the face of her fury. Andy never expected to feel warm fingers wrap round her wrist or a very rough tug ripping her from his grasp.

'How dare you!'

Andy blinked, hands flying out in an attempt to steady her-self. She opened her mouth, preparing to answer only to find Miranda's anger wasn't directed at her.

The editor's body was now barring his access to Andy, her fingers possessively holding her. The air seemed to sizzle around them. Her anger made her even more formidable, strength oozing from every pore. How Stephen could have ever taken her on in an argument? Andy couldn't even imagine. Miranda was the definition of power and he was the epitome of weakness.

'Jealous?' He smirked, undeterred by her sudden outburst. To Andy he was almost egged on by her reaction. He seemed happy to have hurt her.

Andy felt Miranda's fingers flex around her wrist. The silence hung between her and her husband for a second before he delivered the final blow. 'You should be. Andy's amazing in bed.' Andy choked, 'you on the other hand were always a disappointment. You definitely don't live up to the dream Miranda. It's why all your men hunted it elsewhere. How does it feel to be a failure, against an assistant no less?'

The editor lurched forward her hand swinging out. Her calmness had long fled, the ugliness of uncontrollable rage rearing its head.

'Miranda!'

Andy reacted without thinking tugging the woman back into her. Holding her arms down Andy was determined to prevent an attack that the coward now smirking over at them would love to witness.

'Not as controlled as you like everyone to think? You'd hate for people to find out the true failure you really are, as a mother and a wife. Being bad in bed is the least of your problems, you're as icy as everyone thinks. Is it any surprise your men welcome warmth elsewhere?'

Andy was frozen unable to believe the things falling from his lips. The violent vitriol a vicious dagger intending to maim the women she held in her arms. She felt Miranda still. Her body had gone ridged beneath her fingers as she desperately tried to draw back the control that had long fled under his onslaught of insults. He was a horrid, horrid man and no matter the damage Miranda had done over the years she didn't deserve this. Andy would not be involved in this anymore. She'd seen Miranda broken in Paris, was aware the woman had a heart and here Stephen was attempting to shatter it piece by piece.

She just wanted it to end. She should lie. It was her duty but she didn't want to. She couldn't, not anymore. In all honesty she'd had enough of tonight and the disgusting pretence that she was his other half. Sure she could keep the lie going when it involved many unknown, nameless nobodies but not with Miranda. She wouldn't do this to Miranda.

Besides, Andy was well aware it wasn't in her interest to lie even if it cost her, her money. If Miranda left this argument as angry as she'd entered it Andy would lose far more than that. Stephen didn't care about what happened to Andy in all this. He was getting his own kicks and like always she was nothing but a pawn on his board, ready to be sacrificed in the ultimate aim of the game.

She wouldn't take a fall for him. Miranda meant more than that.

Andy knew how much the answer would cost her. Not only a blow to her wallet. Tonight was a bad time to discover Miranda's opinion of her mattered more than she thought. In the face of her feelings she realised the evening was over. She couldn't continue feigning interest in him. Miranda was the final subject in the equation that made this evening too sour for Andy to take.

She paused for a moment, watching Stephen take a breath, 'You're just the cold hearted, frigid little bitch everyone thinks you are.'

*CRACK*, Pain echoed through Andy's palm, Stephen's head wrenching to the side as a handprint blossomed over his cheek. A shocked silence descended between them. Then two sets of eyes turned on Andy as her voice ripped it apart.

'STOP! Just stop it. You evil son of a bitch how dare you say such things? How dare you drag me into all this! How can you say such things to her? She doesn't deserve this. You lying, cheating, low life little sleaze. You make me sick. What she saw in you I'll never know but I've had enough. '

Stephen's eyes narrowed, sensing he'd over stepped the line. If Andy spoke up a pivotal part of his plan would be damaged. 'Andy' he paused, forcing a smile on his face as his arms reached out for her, 'darling, calm down and remember why you're here.'

'Don't touch me!' She slapped his hand away. All her energy was focused on him now, forgetting the other set of eyes watching her wide with surprise. Every reaction followed through without thinking, her mouth running away in her anger. 'No amount of money is worth listening to this.'

Miranda's voice pierced Andy's anger. She froze; her body stiff as she turned to the older woman aware she'd given the game away.

'Money?'

Andy sighed, her attention turning to Miranda, 'He's...'

'Andy! Remember the rules.'

'Screw the rules,' her words were spat at him. 'I've had it, you've dragged me into some silly game and I'm not part of it anymore, I refuse.'

'If I'm right, you don't have a choice. So I'd shut up before you get nothing for tonight.'

Andy gritted her teeth her fingers balling by her side. The Money was running through her head. How much would she lose? How much had she already lost? She could get fired for this. Giving the game away and embarrassing her client in front of his ex no less was career suicide but she no longer cared. With Miranda angry at her and his sickening insinuations she'd cracked. All she wanted to do was run out of here and head home. She could break away from it all and curl up clean and cosy with a bottle of wine.

'Andrea, is he paying you?'

Miranda's expression remained passive, not giving anything away as Andy's turned to look at her. At her words the anger seemed to seep away, shoulders falling in defeat. She felt ashamed of behaviour and sickened at making herself sound like a whore. To her a job was a job and she did it to live but under those bright blue eyes she felt dirty. She was tainted by each client's touch, especially his. She hadn't ever slept with them but without a doubt it was what Miranda assumed the moment she heard her answer. Andy attempted to swallow back the tears as they stung behind her eyes. A subtle nod was all Miranda needed as confirmation.

Silence descended around them for a brief moment. Each member of the trio collected their thoughts in the face of the recent revelation. They took the time to reassign their position in the argument, trying to plan where to take it from there. Miranda's voice was surprisingly calm and controlled when she spoke.

'Money? Is nothing beneath you Stephen?'

'She needs the money, it's a job. I'm doing her a favour which is more than you ever did. So we'll be walking out here arm in arm ready for the photos to hit tomorrow's papers.'

Miranda didn't look at Andy as she spoke. Her eyes now fixed resolutely on her husband, 'I'll double it, what he's paying you. If it's about money more should solve this issue once and for all.'

Stephen clenched his fists, 'Miranda you can't be serious.'

'Deadly,' she cast a glance at Andy, 'if you wish to walk out of here with him then do so but remember you'll lose more than money if you do.'

Stephen sneered, his voice only showing a slight warble indicating his nerves. He was well aware he was losing the battle. 'Threats Miranda? What were you saying earlier about nothing being beyond _me_?'

'I'm paying to protect my reputation and my children. I have no desire for them to see you parading another floozy on your arm, especially one that used to work for me. You on the other hand are paying for a personal vendetta and god only knows what else. There's a big difference.'

'A whore's a whore. You're still paying for her whatever it is you want out of it.'

Andy scowled, opening her mouth to argue. How dare he call her a whore? She did nothing more than stand by his side all evening. It was all she ever did and to describe her in such a disgusting and demeaning manner was too much to take. Her words were cut by a wave of Miranda's hand ending the argument immediately.

'Enough, Stephen leave. Andrea, I believe you'll be coming with me for the remainder of the evening.'

Andy paused, staring down the man before her knowing she had no choice. She wouldn't walk out with him for any amount of money but being paid to remain by Miranda's side didn't tempt her in the slightest either.

She was confused, angry and still half hung over. Her mind was whirling over her emotive reaction earlier. She was amazed she could hit anyone let alone Miranda's husband. She'd stuck up for Miranda. After many months of cursing her name Andy had come to her defence without a thought.

Not that Miranda would remember.

The editor would no doubt focus on Andy's betrayal and would happily pay to escalate the evenings torment. Still, money was money and Andy needed all she could get. So with a sigh, she nodded, the words forever imprinted on her lips falling with ease, 'Yes, Miranda.'


	3. Chapter Three

**Puff Puff - Finally got this finished. I've been suffering with fatigue from my FMS this week so sleeping 12 hours and trying to study meant finding time to write hasn't been so easy. Still I succeeded, just. Yay!**

**Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews. They really do encourage me to keep writing. I need all the encouragement I can get at the moment, sometimes it's too easy to give in to the pain and tiredness. **

**It's been beta-ed by Peet :D but I have also gone over it since and re-written parts so fingers crossed it's all good.**

**Hope you like it!**

**Flitt x **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

It was almost like old times. She'd spent the evening circling the rich and famous. An unknown entity in a party of players and she'd filled her role with ease. 'The second assistant', it was a persona she'd never forget and one she'd vowed never to return to. Unfortunately a promise she'd been unable to keep.

A failure also faulted by the first assistant. Miranda had employed a new model. A different girl clearly cast from an old mould. As the brunette had taken up her previous post at Miranda's right hand side Andy had felt a feeling of nostalgia. The girl's expression of scathing curiosity had clearly been cultivated from her red headed predecessor. In the face of it Andy had fought her desire to smile.

As the eyes of everyone they met roved over her with limited interest Andy had kept her eyes focused and forward. Her external calm covered the nerves beneath. She'd desperately tuned into the crowds conversation fighting to drown out her fear as she waited for the woman to strike. Andy was under no illusion that the older woman would let her escape unscathed. This was just a temporary cease fire, a moment for Miranda to reload.

After an hour she'd finally been granted a glass of champagne. She'd tried to restrain herself and sip it slowly. Barely ten minutes passed before she'd caved. In the face of her internal fight the beverage was swiftly sacrificed. It was a futile effort. Even under the alcoholic tsunami she was unable to drown out the voices.

Now all that remained was an empty glass tightly clasped in the curl of her fingers and the niggling memory of her outburst demanding her attention. She had a lot of time and little to do except assess it from every angle. Why had she been so concerned? Why had she been so protective of a woman who hated her? There was no doubt Miranda did. She winced at the memory; unable to ignore the gentle throb from the marks embedded in her upper arms. Five little lines were the only lingering evidence of the older woman's talons carving into her skin. She'd held her in her grasp like a lifeline. Almost the antithesis to her words which had been fuelled from anger and resentment. Andy couldn't forget the hatred that had seemed to bubble up beneath an icy visage. Even in the face of it all Andy's head was swimming with thoughts and images that weren't welcome. The emotions that plagued her in the dark recess of her soul were determined to whirl up. Images of smooth skin and soft silken hair slowly floated to the surface.

She'd denied this for so long. Had almost convinced herself that the subtle seconds where her heart sang to a different tune was just the drink talking or exhaustion blurring the edges of her senses.

It wasn't.

After so much time had passed Andy was finally forced to be back by Miranda's side and face up all that had gone before. Right now she just wanted to run. She was tempted to toss the money aside and hold her head high as she stormed from the event. Her mounting bills denied her that option. Her work was temporary and inconsistent and the money was minimal. So she remained, silent and stoic, eyes focused forcefully ahead as her mind continued to delve deeper into thoughts she wished she could ignore.

Her eyes darted to the side when the older woman laughed. It was tingly and fake. Andy had only heard a genuine sound of joy echo from her lips when she'd been talking to the twins. Even Stephen had only ever forced a frown onto her face. It seemed the man had been met with distain long before the divorce proceedings began. After tonight Andy could understand why. She hated him. He'd forced her onto a battle field she'd never intended to enter. He'd left her blind. As a casualty of war, he'd been unconcerned about the irreparable damaged he could have caused to her career. She'd been torn between two warring spouses and used as a trophy more than any man had before. He'd made her feel dirty and cheap. No ounce of her pride had been spared as she'd melted before a blazing gaze. She'd never forget that look. Miranda's eyes had bored into her exhibiting no emotion other than distaste.

Miranda knowing about her escort activities would have been high on her list of living nightmares. She tried to ignore why it mattered so much but she failed to justify it. Miranda was Miranda. Her ex-boss and an icon but she shouldn't matter more than that.

She did.

Everything did. She went over every minute detail. The outlines were vivid and perfect like a picture. How Miranda had felt pressed against her, her anger had emanating from every pore and barely an inch between them. She remembered every subtle twitch of her lips and every flick of her eyes. The emotion that had coiled beneath her skin had flared along Andy's senses. After it all her edges had been left raw and exposed, wide open for the editor to see. So she'd pushed her. A desperate escape attempt that bordered on physical assault had been driven by her desire to flee. Andy would have expected immediate retribution for her behaviour but it never came.

Not only had Miranda not punished her in the presence of her husband. She'd come round the corner to find Andy in an embrace with her ex and she'd attacked Stephen. Sure it had been a relatively controlled confrontation but it didn't excuse the fact that out of two options Miranda had turned on him. Miranda had touched Andy more times tonight than the Editor ever had in her entire employment period and as a consequence Andy's skin was tingling. The memories made her mouth go dry and with an empty glass there was no liquid to alleviate it. Miranda had stolen her from her husband and ever since she hadn't let her out of her sight. Andy shifted as she noticed Miranda eyeing her. She did after every move Andy made. There was no option to run. Miranda had remained coiled all evening, perfectly poised to prevent her prey's escape.

Andy abandoned her glass on a passing tray, quickly grasping some water to wash away her sudden thirst.

Sipping her drink Andy's eyes fell upon a gentleman on the approach. She remembered him from previous parties. His badly cut jacket was slightly too big and bulky. Drawing judgment from his outfit she'd guess he was wealthy but without style. Not a rare combination it seemed as she surveyed the room. Miranda's assistant was at the ready. Andy cast her mind back to Emily. Courtesy of Nigel Andy was kept up to date on the minor details of the magazine. The red head had been promoted a few months ago. She'd been moved out of Miranda's inner circle but still in the immediate vicinity of Runway. Miranda would be silly to remove such dedication and she knew it.

The new girl was a blond and visually the total antithesis of Emily. Nigel had named her Kat, Miranda called her Katia. She had blue eyes and a short sleek bob with a slanted fringe. Her appearance was quite quirky. The ice blue gown she currently wore was a striking combination of silk and lace. It wouldn't have suited many but the girl wore it with style. Andy couldn't deny she was an elegant addition at the editor's side. She was as efficient and attentive as Emily with everyone's names falling from her lips with ease. Andy stomach tensed every time it happened. The girl's proximity to Miranda triggered the ugly clench of envy with every closing inch between them. That used to be her job. A job that had driven her to the extreme but tonight she missed it, missed Miranda. The older woman had cast an invisible noose around her neck and was able to affect her even after all this time. She felt choked whenever the woman came near and now she was tied to her side.

The man was getting closer, slowly zeroing in on the silver haired icon. As always Miranda tilted her head towards her assistant as a subtle indicator to needing a name. It never came. In a sudden state of de-jar-vu Andy watched as Katia stumbled, her mouth flapping like a fish as she fought for a name that never came. She froze as Miranda turned to her. Her eyes narrowed as the blond girl's panic escalated ensuring she couldn't remember her own name let alone anyone else's. She was like a deer in headlights now staring into the eyes of an unavoidable fate. This one mistake could result in her dismissal. Andy knew it and so did she.

On instinct Andy took over. She leant in, her hand reaching out, subconsciously coming to rest on the older woman's hip attracting her attention. Miranda swivelled and her hand snapped over Andy's as she turned to regard her, her eyes wide in surprise. Andy stuttered slightly at the touch, unprepared for the zing up her arm as the heat of Miranda's hand searing into her skin. Her mouth hung open as her voice was silenced by the sudden sensation. Miranda had rendered her mute. Barely a moment passed before the Editor gave her an accusatory stare demanding an answer immediately.

Gulping down the nerves that choked her Andy leant in a little too close. A subtle shiver vibrated through her fingers as she felt Miranda's body tremble ever so slightly as Andy's breath brushed against her cheek. Her free hand lifted slowly as she extended an index finger in the man's direction. It was carefully done. A subtle motion so the indication was only obvious to Miranda. The older woman's eyes flicked to regard the approaching predator before snapping back to Andy, now frowning. 'His name is Alex Carlson, divorced a year ago.' She paused, not knowing whether to continue. She was a writer. Having her nose buried in newspapers was her business and she accumulated a mountain of knowledge on every name that surrounded the spotlight. However her sources were weak and a woman in Miranda's position would turn her nose up at any information in the media. Miranda continued to stare at her impatiently waiting for the other words to follow. Her first assistant watched as she waited limply by her side long forgotten. Her focus was totally on Andy. She knew the young woman was holding out on her. Andy's brief hesitation without withdrawing had given her away. Miranda's head jerked, her eyebrows twitching as her eyes hardened, demanding the last little detail. Andy sighed, 'according to _Page Six_ he is currently dating his ex-wife's sister Joanna Grant.'

Miranda's lips narrowed, '_Page Six_?'

'It's the only information available to me, now.'

Miranda paused, the silence hanging between them. She nodded, 'It'll have to do.'

She turned away and her hand fell from Andy's as the young woman retreated. Kat turned to her but no thank you fell from her lips. Unlike Emily this girl wasn't grateful, just suspicious. For an ex-assistant what had passed between Miranda and her would have seemed odd to even her own eyes. This girl assumed Andy was nothing other than the woman that walked away. Honestly, Andy had believed this her-self until today. Now she wasn't so sure. She'd touched her and Miranda had allowed it, even encouraged it slightly.

Andy's hand flexed feeling a ghost of Miranda's palm still pressed over her own. This was ridiculous. Standing here surrounded by the glitter and glamour Andy felt like she'd fallen into something surreal.

She turned her attention back to Miranda. The Icon was now in full performance mode. Andy felt she was on a serious charm offensive. Miranda's lips curved in an elegant smile as she leant in slightly listening to him talk. Maybe she liked him. He could be Mr Priestly number? What was it now, three or four? Would he be next? Gifted with the permission to touch, to taste? Her mind was sprinted ahead into a falsified future. The imaginings turned her mouth sour. She hated the idea, she really did. Denial wasn't working. The thought of any man having his hands on her, defiling this beacon of beauty was just distasteful. In her experience men could be clumsy, selfish and often unappreciative. This was a woman who deserved to be worshiped.

Andy's tongue eagerly stroked over her lower lip. She would willingly worship her in every possible way. Blinded by desire Andy's imagination flared. _On her knees she'd watch as glistening thighs were prised apart and breathless whispers begged for the tip of her tongue, a form of worship without words. _Andy licked her lips again, gulping as her thoughts subconsciously continued down the deadly track. _Would she swoon or buck up against her mouth desperate for more? Would she hold back? Try to be resistant and unwilling to surrender to the sensations of pleasure or melt over her mouth and dissolve into a puddle of pure pent up passion? Or would she? Would she…_Andy started, feeling like she'd hit something hard. Her eyes cast about as a blush crept over her cheeks. She was thinking about what Miranda would be like in bed. The woman was right before her. She'd gone crazy.

'Shit,' the word was muffled and breathless as the heat blushed over her skin. The sudden pink hue was the only evidence of the lust lingering beneath the surface. The heated fantasies cascaded through her head like water over a shattered dam. Revelations were coming thick and fast. After everything she'd finally given in and it seemed her head was happy to provide all the evidence. The truth was now openly exposed before her eyes, thrumming through her veins and throbbing between her thighs.

She needed a drink.

A waiter was weaving his way through the crowd. Turning to Kat she showed the symbol of a drink, mouthing the words 'want one?' The young girl rejected the offer. Her head snapped in a sharp no before returning her attention back to Miranda. The older woman was still being attentive to Mr Carlson. In the face of Kat's behaviour Andy shrugged as she walked away. As she carelessly passed the conversation between editor and guest she remained unaware of cold blue eyes snapping over his shoulder spying her every move. Her fingers snatched up a single flute. She resisted the temptation to grab a second even though her deviant desires still scrabbled for attention. She sipped, almost groaning as the flavour burst over her tongue. A mouthful of bubbles and fruit slowly caressed her tongue before finishing with a slightly acidic kick.

Miranda laughed and Andy's attention immediately returned to her.

_How would she taste? Would she suffer in silence or scream as she crashed over the edge? _Andy swallowed nervously as a memory from earlier on flickered into focus, '**Being bad in bed is the least of your problems', **_Could she? Would she orgasm? It seemed almost undignified. Certainly something many believed Miranda would never subject herself to.__Stephen had pretty much accused her of being fridged in front of Andy's eyes. Was she? Or was he just bad at it? Andy wanted to find out. _Her thoughts steamed ahead, taking her to places where Miranda was at her mercy and Andy able to make her melt. Tingles crept along her skin._ What if she was bad at it? Andy had never gone down on a girl. Sure she'd read about it in books, heard about it from friends and had a guy go down on her a fair few times but that didn't mean she'd be good. Miranda would be one hell of a person to practice on. Not that she'd ever get the chance._

She gulped the champagne, no longer concerned with savouring the flavour.

Andy watched as Miranda's hips swivelled slightly causing her gown to flare out over the floor before silhouetting back against her body. The legs under that dress were amazing. Everything else she could only imagine. Andy had many memories. Each curve covered in a tight pencil skirt with her legs crossed and a four inch heel dangling from her foot. Her lips always caressed the end of her pen when she was lost in thought. Her fingers caressing each page as she assessed every image and article. Sometimes she sat while other times she stood up and leant over. Her image was always reflected in the window behind her. Andy didn't realise how much she'd subconsciously seen. She remembered the image of her skirt as it was pulled taught and the slight dip of her shirt as it sunk to reveal her bra and the creamy skin that enticingly swelled just over the edge. The sight had been so distant and teasing as Miranda had bent over her desk.

Andy followed the flow of the dress. The gentle dip of her waist line before it curved up and came to rest just beneath her breasts. Andy could clearly see the 'V' now. Her hand shook as she took another sip. She was salivating. Her mouth watered as she mentally removed every item of clothing. As the last vestige of resistance gave way her eyes slipped shut.

God this had to stop.

She'd gone gay for Miranda. She'd probably been harbouring hidden desires for some time. Every innocent perusal of a woman was now being assessed in her head trying to determine any lingering desires stirring from somewhere that was locked deep in denial. After all these years wrapped up in the arms of man she'd never once listened to any thread of doubt. She'd locked her heart in a cage woven over time to push anything other than heterosexual emotions out of her mind.

Miranda had torn it apart.

She needed to get out of here. She needed to think and sort this out in her head.

'Andrea' it was nasally and annoying, nothing like the gossamer tones echoing in her head.

Andy's eyes snapped open. Her cheeks blushed as she found Kat looking right at her. Andy spun round before realising Alex had gone and so had Miranda. The editor's absence screamed out to her.

'Miranda's gone you can go.'

Andy panicked, anxious as the sudden absence unsettled her so, 'Gone, gone where?'

'To her room,' the sarcastic tone wasn't lost, 'The evenings over. So she's gone.' _Alone?_ Of course alone, he was with that woman wasn't he? That's what the newspapers said and Miranda would never date someone in a relationship. At least that's what Andy had always assumed. Now she thought about it Andy didn't actually know anything about her. The way she thought or the opinions she held. She knew nothing. She only knew the woman within _Runway_ everything else was a mystery. 'She told me to tell you, you can go but silence is the key to keeping your career.'

Andy nodded, no talking to the newspapers or writing up her own article about her ex. That much was obvious and Andy would never need reminding. Downing the rest of her drink she placed the empty flute on a passing tray and turned to go. Her mind was warring with it all both the disappointment and relief. She might never see Miranda again after this evening. Their paths had no need to cross. Half of her was happy, the other half not so much. She sighed, an anticlimactic end to a dramatic evening. What had started out as normal escort duty had escalated into something she never imagined. Now it was all over and she'd been dismissed, business as usual.

Andy steeled her heart, cursing her self for being so silly. She'd gotten carried away and paid the price. All this was ever about was pride, reputation and money. She was here for the cash so she could cope on her own. She should be happy she'd doubled her earnings. The agencies cut would remain the same and she'd have a bit of a bonus this month.

Miranda had let her go, let her escape without any retribution. A thinly veiled threat and she was free to leave.

Now she could head home and relax. It was time forget all about it. She could lick her wounds and stitch her newly released revelations into some discernable format she could understand and begin to cope with. She wanted Miranda that much was obvious but it wasn't easy to admit. She'd been hit with so much in one whirlwind of an evening. Everything had just welled up leaving her exhausted from the constant onslaught of emotions. She just wanted to curl up in some comfy clothes and figure out a way to cope with wanting a woman she couldn't have. Hell wanting a woman period.

She grabbed her coat from the closet. It was time to escape like she'd long been wishing. This evening had been a total mess all because of Miranda and her abysmal ex. She wondered if Stephen had already called the agency to complain. Tonight could be the end of her sideline career. Right now she didn't care. Miranda's cash would meet her needs for a few months. Now it was time to go. She'd go home and get these silly romantic notions out of her head. Tomorrow it'll be like this night never happened. The agency could call and gather in any outstanding payment and then she could spend her earnings without worry.

She stopped.

'Crap.'

They couldn't. Miranda wasn't the original client. Andy had planned to get the money before the evening had ended but she'd disappeared too soon. Andy hadn't even had the opportunity to ask. The client often paid at the end of the evening in full to avoid any issues and if not the agency dealt with it. Andy thought about her escort agency ringing Runway to demand money for her services. She almost laughed. It was a bad image. Miranda would keep the cash and just crucify her. 'Shit, shit, shit!' The world was out to get her.

She hovered on the step, torn between abandoning the idea all together and just chalking it up as a loss or going back to ask for her money. She knew where Miranda was. The woman was always in the same suite at this hotel. Could she really go back in, crawl all the way to her door and demand payment. Miranda had doubled it, _doubled it_! That money would support her for months, especially if her ex had put the proverbial boot in her foray into the escorting business.

She had no choice. She needed the money. Going without wasn't an option.

She was so close to escaping, running from everything in her head. It wasn't to be. Turning she dragged her heels over the carpet as she unwillingly walked to her doom. She always swore she wouldn't let the woman get to her but she had and without any effort at all. She'd invaded her head and Andy had caved in willingly. Miranda had no idea. Totally ignorant of the thoughts in Andy's head and the sensations she'd set in motion. Biting her lip Andy ascended the stairs, her heart hammering with every step. She could do this. All she had to do was go in, get her money and get out.

_Simple._

* * *

><p><strong><em>Hehehehehe...<em>**


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